Twelve Months
by Caitlyn Rose
Summary: A year of bedtime conversations between Lucas and Peyton
1. January

**JANUARY**

* * *

Peyton felt the last tingles of aftershocks course through her, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and smiled in delight.

"I love you," she mumbled incoherently into his neck.

Lucas's mouth curled into a small smile. "Well, good," he said, reluctantly pulling out of her heat and placing a firm kiss on her mouth. "I love you too, sweetheart. Did you know that?"

"I did," Peyton replied contentedly, stealing one last kiss before he rolled off her. She sighed. "This is like, the perfect state of being," she commented, as Lucas smiled his agreement. She glanced over at him. "You're pretty awesome at that, you know."

"Ah, Peyton, Peyton," he answered loftily. "That's what all the girls say."

"Funny!" Peyton exclaimed in mock annoyance, poking him in the ribs.

When she'd tiptoed in from the office earlier to find him dozing over "The Grapes of Wrath" - having obviously lost the battle to wait up for her - she couldn't believe how cute he looked. She would never tell him – twenty seven year old men didn't generally appreciate the bestowal of an adjective often applied to kittens or small children – but she could show him.

Thus, Lucas Scott found himself whispered and stroked and kissed awake by the most beautiful woman in the world. A not at all undesirable situation, if he did say so himself.

"What time is it, anyway?" Peyton asked, after a beat.

Lucas consulted the alarm clock on his beside locker. "Almost three," he said, turning towards her in bed, his face inches from hers.

She groaned. "We are going to be so tired in the morning."

"I don't know," he smirked. "I find I always wake up with a spring in my step after one of these late night rendezvous"

Peyton burst into laughter, snorting in a most unladylike fashion. "I can't believe you just said the word "rendezvous,"" she squealed.

"What?! It's a word!"

"I know it's a word, Lucas, I just don't think you should say it – ever"

He made a face at her. "Noted," he replied dryly. "C'mere"

Peyton allowed herself to be pulled into his arms, manoeuvring herself around so that her back was nestled flush against his chest. The wind howled outside, and she felt a particular brand of contentedness wash over her, the one that comes with knowing that while the elements rage, you are safe and warm and cocooned from it all.

"Well," Lucas said eventually, nuzzling at the juncture between her neck and hairline. "Even if you _do _mock my vocabulary, and even if I _have _been known to bitch about you waking me up, I'm glad you did tonight."

His hand travelled across her stomach, cupping her breast lightly, caressing it. A gesture of simple affection and intimacy for its own sake, leading nowhere, Peyton knew. She leaned into his warmth happily.

Though their days were filled with quick emails and phone calls, it had been a while since they had been able to just _be_ together, Lucas thought. Snatched moments in the mornings and hurried dinners were not enough for him. He moaned softly as he ran his free hand along the tops of her thighs, dropping a kiss on her shoulder.

Sometimes he still couldn't believe that he got to see her this way, touch her this way. She was warm and wet and pliant and _perfect_. Lucas felt as though it had been forever since he had held her in his arms, and said as much.

Peyton did a quick calculation and realised that the interval had indeed been rather longer than usual. Still, she reasoned, "It's been, like, four days, Luke. I don't think that's exactly a drought for most people."

He nipped playfully at her earlobe, his voice hot and low in her ear. "Well, most people don't have such a beautiful, sexy wife as I do," he countered, "so I guess that explains it."

Peyton smiled idiotically, blissfully. "Guess so, Mr. Scott," she replied sleepily.

There was silence then, and Peyton felt herself dropping into that beautiful, hazy space between wake and slumber. Lucas's steady breathing on her shoulder had the soporific effect of a pendulum, and she felt sure he had fallen asleep ahead of her. It was with surprise, therefore, when she found herself jolted back to full consciousness by the sound of his voice.

"I don't know," he mused. "I just feel like I haven't seen you in a couple of days – work's been so crazy for us both." His lips brushed across her skin. "I missed you."

Peyton was so perfectly snug and comfortable in her current position, it took a seemingly gargantuan effort to turn herself around, but she wanted to see his face. She kissed him sweetly. "Me too," she said. "And I'm sorry I had to stay late tonight."

"Hey, no, that's okay," Lucas answered. "I know you're busy. I just don't want you working yourself too hard, Peyt."

She shook her head. "Nah, it'll ease of in a week or so," she assured him. Five years after the label's inception, Peyton's drive and passion hadn't wavered, and she regarded any passing inclination to rest on her laurels with fear. It was no longer a question of finding _any _half decent artist and making a name for herself, but of finding the _right_ artists and maintaining her good reputation. Striving for excellence was, she found, actually a lot more difficult that striving to just earn a living, but a lot more enjoyable too. The truth was, if she didn't love what she had at home even more than what she had at work, Peyton might never leave the place. As it was, Lucas was all the incentive she needed to be out of there by six most nights.

"I think it's just a little insane cause I took such a long break for the holidays this year," she continued. "Plus, every one of my artists seems to have come up with a New Year's resolution to record an entire album by, like, February or something," she claimed laughingly, aware of her own exaggeration. "So yeah, phone calls all day. And you know how temperamental musicians can get when it doesn't all go exactly their way…"

Lucas smiled ruefully. "Oh, nowhere near as temperamental as teenaged basketball players, I can tell you."

Peyton reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his unconsciously. It had been something of a revelation for Lucas to realise that his job never got any easier – each new year and new team came with a new set of problems. All he could hope for was to become better at dealing with them. By now, Peyton knew all the ins and outs of this year's Ravens, and knew how much Lucas cared about them. He had his moments of doubt and often wondered if he was doing a good job, but Peyton had enough faith for them both. She could see how much those boys respected him, and she was prouder of him than she could say.

"You can handle it," she told him confidently. "And remember, Luke, just think…"

"What would Whitey do?" they finished in unison, and laughed. It was an oft-repeated refrain in their house.

"Did you write any more tonight?" Peyton wondered a moment later.

He shook his head. "Nothing major, just a couple of hundred words."

Peyton's eyes lit up. "Can I read it?" she asked, her tone teasing.

"Peyt! You know you can't! Not yet, at least."

She sighed in exasperation, and the mattress groaned as she rolled over onto her back. "But it's a novel, Luke! She protested, although she knew he wouldn't relent – a fact which didn't stop her bugging him about this all the time. "I _can_ be impartial! Ok, fine, you not showing me "An Unkindness of Ravens" I can understand, I was _in_ that one, but…"

"You're in them all, sweetheart, one way or another," he said softly, as she trailed off. "I just want it to be perfect before I show it to you."

Peyton pushed her husband over onto his back, curling herself into his side and slinging one of her bare legs over his.

"I know, I know. I'm just impatient," she said.

A pause.

"I bet John Grisham lets his wife read his stuff as he goes along," Peyton muttered eventually.

"Too bad you didn't marry him then," Lucas replied, apparently entirely unconcerned.

She smiled indulgently. "I know, bummer, right? I bet he's like a zillionaire too. I totally picked the wrong novelist, Scott."

"You wound me, Peyton," he answered, attempting to keep his face serious but unable to help laughing. "That gets me right here," he said, placing her hand over his heart.

"Aww. I'm sorry." She cooed, assuming an expression of contrition and placing a careful kiss over his heart. "You're much better looking than John Grisham," she said seriously a moment later, presumably in an effort to make amends.

Lucas guffawed. "I don't know what he looks like."

"Neither do I," Peyton replied easily, "but you're much better looking than _everybody_."

He smiled, and she sighed tiredly. "Go to sleep, ok, Luke?"

He looked down at her as she burrowed herself into him to settle down for the night. She was the most adorable thing he'd ever seen. Unable to help it, he tilted her chin up towards him and kissed her thoroughly for a moment, flicking his tongue against hers, tasting her.

"Ok," he said, pecking her one final time. "Goodnight sweetheart. I love you."

"I love you."

They slept.

* * *

So, this is just intended to be a fluffy little thing - there is a storyline but nothing momentous will ever happen in this story - hope that's ok! Theoretically there could be twelve parts, but i haven't written any more, so I'll just see how it goes in terms of response etc :)


	2. February

To add to his many attributes, Lucas Scott was, by all accounts, a very considerate bedfellow. He didn't snore, sleepwalk or sleep talk, and occupied only his fair share of the blankets. When retiring after his wife, he would tiptoe into their room in the darkness, undress quietly and slide into bed gently so as not to disturb her. He would even try to keep tossing and turning to a minimum as he tried to get comfortable. These were the small courtesies Lucas observed nightly, but which, it had to be said, were rarely extended reciprocally to him.

Usually Peyton slept like a log, but on the rare occasion she did not, she seemed to perceive her husband's slumbering form as a personal affront. In her shameless attempts to rouse him, she was not above a swift shove, a coughing fit or – as a last resort – persistent hisses of his name in his ear.

It was a delicate operation, but one she had become quite skilled at, if she did say so herself. The trick was to provide sufficient interference to wake the man sleeping beside her, but to then return immediately to her own side of the bed and feign casualness. Bitter experience had also taught her that it was advisable to give him a moment to come round before making any move towards conversation.

One particular February night, Peyton knew that sleep was a luxury unlikely to be easily won - she quite simply had too many things spinning around in her mind. Big, scary, life-changing things that were not conducive to peaceful slumber. Thus, all the aforementioned steps successfully executed, she whispered into the darkness.

"Lucas! Are you awake?"

"No," was the muffled reply, his face buried in a pillow.

"Oh," Peyton said timidly. "Cause I just thought you might want to talk…" she ventured.

He turned around slightly, and Peyton could see a huge crease down his check where he'd slept on it. She traced her finger along the line gently. His face was the picture of confusion.

"You woke me up because you just thought I might want to talk?" Lucas asked eventually, his voice still groggy.

Peyton's eyes widened innocently. "What? No, baby, I didn't _wake_ you up. You just happened to stir and I thought, well, since obviously we both can't sleep…"

Lucas's mind may not have been at its sharpest, but he could nevertheless discern that this version of events was most likely not true. He had woken up to a suspiciously chatty Peyton on more than a few occasions in the past.

He flopped back down on the pillow and turned around. "I _can_ sleep," he corrected her staunchly. "I _am_ sleeping."

Peyton sighed inaudibly. Of all nights for her husband to be feeling taciturn…

She shimmied over towards him, draping her left arm over his torso. "Luke," she spoke lowly into his ear in honeyed tones, "come on, don't be grumpy. I'm offering you some quality time with the love of your life here…"

No reply. Evidently such a treat was of little consequence to the man beside her.

Peyton kissed his shoulder blade lightly. "I feel like we never just talk anymore…" she added, her voice becoming incrementally more whiny.

"Peyton," Lucas answered wryly, his eyes still clamped shut, "that's _all_ we do."

And it was true. He and his wife were in constant contact throughout each day, and freely talked about anything and everything, from the latest celebrity gossip to their most private hopes and dreams. Honesty compelled Peyton to admit that communication between the two of them was never a problem.

"I guess…." She trailed off, making sure to sound exceptionally disappointed. It was now simply a question of biding her time.

Before Peyton had reached the count of ten in her head, Lucas spoke.

"Ok, fine," he relented finally, "what do you want to talk about?"

Peyton grinned victoriously, flopping back onto her side of the bed. She knew she'd break him. "I don't know," she replied, which was a lie, but not one she thought he'd blame her for. "What do you want to talk about?"

Lucas, now facing her in bed, looked at her in disbelief. "_Nothing_," he replied emphatically, but Peyton could see the tale-tell signs of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You're no fun," she said wickedly, leaning over to kiss him quickly. "What's on your agenda tomorrow?"

"Not much," he answered, mentally reviewing his diary. "Practice, obviously, and I have a meeting with some guy who wants to come in and do a like a mental preparation workshop with the guys or something-"

"What, like a "believe the ball will go in and it will" kind of thing?" Peyton interrupted.

"Yeah," he said, his voice bearing traces of scepticism. "It's all about the vibes we're sending out to the universe apparently. So, anyway, I gotta check him out first, make sure he's not too airy fairy about the whole thing. Oh," he added as an afterthought, "and Hales is running some extra classes or something tomorrow, so I told her I'd pick up Jamie and Beth from school."

"Ok, cool," Peyton replied. "Man, those are some cute kids, huh?"

"Yeah," Lucas agreed. "They're pretty awesome. That's the Scott genes for you," he joked.

Peyton smiled softly. "Guess so…" she murmured quietly.

Lucas looked at her oddly for a moment, cocking an eyebrow, then appeared to dismiss it. "You're weird," he said matter-of-factly, running his foot up her calf. "You want me to bring the kids by to see you at Tric before I drop them off?

"Sure," she replied chirpily, her earlier contemplation apparently forgotten. "I feel like we haven't seen them in a while, they'll be forgetting who we are."

"Nah," Lucas countered, scrunching up his face. "According to Haley they never shut up about their cool aunt Peyton," he informed her amusedly.

Peyton simply laughed in response. She had recently painted both of the children a wall mural in their bedrooms – a Ravens theme for Jamie and the Enchanted Wood for Bethany – thus securing her stature as their current favorite aunt. Much to the chagrin of Nathan and Haley, she and Lucas were both happy to spoil them rotten – and then hand them right back to their parents, as was the privilege of being the young, hip aunt and uncle with no children of their own to provide for or discipline.

"So, how come you're up so late, anyway? Can't sleep?" Lucas asked, changing the subject.

"Nope."

"Something on your mind?" he probed, his voice laced with concern.

"No, not really," she replied, so casually it didn't occur to him to question it.

"Ok," he raised his left arm to pull her body in towards his own. "Well, then how about you try again to get some sleep. Because, sweetheart," he kissed her lips gently, "when you get some sleep, _I_ can get some sleep."

Lucas earned himself a quick shove, but soon after, his wife settled down beside him, seemingly contented for the night.

Peyton gave it a good try, she honestly did. But she was bursting to talk to him, there were no two ways about it.

"Hey, Luke," she began again, just as he was dozing over.

He groaned. "What?" he asked, not bothering to hide his frustration.

Peyton searched for something to say. She really hadn't had a topic in mind, her thoughts – as of about nine hours ago - being dominated by only one thing.

"You wanna go to the movies tomorrow night?" she asked lamely.

"Yeah" was his short reply. "Sure."

"Well, what do you feel like seeing?" she prodded

"I don't know," he mumbled tiredly. "I don't care, not a chick flick…"

Peyton couldn't help laughing. "You say that like _I_ was the one who suggested we rent 'Love Actually'…"

"Peyton! That was like ten years ago!" he protested, his aggrievement waking him up a little.

Lucas turned around, burying his face in the pillow. "And there were some very reputable actors in that movie, I just want to point that out," he added, his tone signifying that this was his final word on the matter.

Peyton sighed loudly. She glanced at the clock beside her, the neon red digits taunting her: 2am

She tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. She tried to think of extremely dull things, like the amount of paperwork that awaited her in the morning.

After what she estimated must have been at least forty five minutes of valiant effort, she stole another glance at the clock.

2:09

Peyton officially gave up.

"Lucas!" she hissed, elbowing his motionless form. "You're not falling asleep, are you?"

He mumbled something unintelligible, which Peyton considered a not too promising sign.

Time to bring out the big guns. She knew something that would definitely waken her husband right up. If she had to be consumed by the jitter-inducing combination of nine parts excitement and one part terror all night, be may as well be, too.

She began to nudge his side vigorously, not letting up when he tried to swat her away. She was aware of how childishly and downright annoyingly she was behaving, but honestly didn't care. She progressed to unashamedly attempting to shake him awake, manoeuvring herself on top of him and ignoring his protests as she straddled him and pressed down on his shoulders.

"Luke," she started tantalisingly, from her position atop his thighs. "I have a secret to tell you…"

"You do not," he replied resolutely.

"I do," she answered, a hint of pride in her voice. "So open your eyes, 'cause I swear to God, you're not going to want to miss this."

Lucas did not think for a second that her revelation would be anything other than totally inane, but complied anyway, because that was his standard response to all she requested. She was his greatest weakness, and he could never deny her anything.

Peyton looked down into his blue eyes, tired but kind, and her own sparkled brilliant green.

"I'm pregnant."

* * *

**Sorry about the length of time it took to get this out - i have no excuse, it just took a long time to write and i fear it's still kind of crappy. But hopefully they'll get easier from here on out, if there is still anyone reading!**


	3. March

**How excited are we for 601, kids? Very. Too bad the electricity in my area is off for the day for maintenance! Just thought i would take this excellent opportunity to beg the following authors for updates:**

_**Skinarol (When All Are One and One Is All)**_

_**Coconut16 (Crescendo)**_

_**Lexlady (Journey)**_

_**Jewelianna (who isn't in the middle of anything right now, but whose work i love)**_

**Anyways, sorry about that, on with the show!**

* * *

"Hey, Luke!" Peyton called, lifting her head up from the book in her lap. "Are you listening?"

"Uh-huh," came his muffled response from their en-suite bathroom.

"Ok," she replied. "So, according to the book, these are the so-called side effects of pregnancy, you ready for this?"

Some unintelligible but vaguely affirmative noise came from the adjoining room, so Peyton proceeded.

"Abdominal achiness, increased appetite, backache, bloating, bloodshot eyes, breast tenderness," she recited in parrot fashion. "Clumsiness," she continued with a laugh, "constipation, swollen angles, feet and hands, dizziness, exhaustion, forgetfulness, food cravings, bleeding gums, hair loss," Peyton paused for breath. "Heartburn, indigestion, heightened sense of smell, insomnia, leg cramps, nausea, nasal congestion and nosebleeds, excessive saliva," she guffawed, "sweating, skin changes, shortness of breath, varicose veins and – get this – urinary incontinence!" she finished with a flourish.

Lucas popped his head around the door, his toothbrush still in his mouth and an incredulous expression on his face.

"I know!" Peyton exclaimed, in response to his unuttered disbelief. "I swear to God, Luke, if the doctor gave you a pill and said it was going to give you all that stuff at the same time, you wouldn't take it!"

Lucas just laughed and disappeared behind the doorframe again.

"I'm serious!" she called after him. "You'd hear all that and then you'd think, 'nah, not worth it!'"

Peyton flopped back onto her sea of pillows with a laugh, and seconds later her husband re-emerged, switching off the bathroom light and crawling into bed beside her.

"Well, you probably won't get half of those things, anyway" he said optimistically. "Some people just breeze through it."

"Yeah, well, so far so good," she replied with a soft smile.

Indeed, save a little morning sickness and tiredness, she had yet to experience any of the more severe ill effects of pregnancy.

"So," she turned towards him. "You think everyone was happy about our news tonight?"

"Eh," Lucas shrugged, feigning nonchalance but unable to conceal the smile twitching at his lips. "Kinda. I wouldn't say overjoyed or anything."

Peyton laughed, poking his side playfully. "That's exactly the word I'd use!" she replied.

He just grinned in response, like a man who had everything he could possibly want in life. Since Peyton had finally passed the twelve-week mark, they'd invited their inner circle over for dinner that night to share the news of their impending parenthood. It was just as well, because the pair were about ready to burst with an excitement they were not inclined to keep to themselves much longer.

Reactions varied but, as expecteded, were wholeheartedly positive from everyone concerned; Haley and Brooke raised the roof with their screams of delight, each calling first dibs on godmother and promising the delivery of pregnancy books and baby clothes – respectively – first thing tomorrow. Nathan, eternally laid back, preferred a more subdued offer of congratulations but genuine happiness shone in his face as he clapped his brother on the shoulder and hugged Peyton closely. Jamie and Lily, naturally exuberant children, were simultaneously thrilled and awed, stealing shy glances and their aunt's stomach, while little Bethany simply appeared totally nonplussed by all the fuss. As for Karen…

Lucas shook his head, laughing a little at the memory. "I thought my mom was never going to stop crying," he muttered. "I think she was starting to worry she would never have any grandkids!"

Peyton smiled widely. Since their marriage almost four years ago, she and her husband had been subject to periodic prodding on the issue of children from a myriad of sources. Karen, in the most light-hearted way possible, had certainly been leading the pack.

"I'm glad we waited, though," Peyton commented. "Are you?"

"Yeah," Lucas nodded confidently. They had been not quite twenty-three when they married - young by modern standards - and more keen to advance their careers, travel and just have fun together than to rush into parenthood.

"It's been nice having you to myself for a while," he continued, pulling her into him and pressing a kiss to her head. "But I think we're ready now. This feels right, doesn't it?"

Peyton turned her head to face him, smiling that shy smile she often wore these days when it seemed that, after more than her fair share of tragedy, she couldn't quite believe her good luck. She bit her bottom lip and nodded slowly, looking into his eyes.

"It's perfect," she admitted.

And so what could he do but kiss her? Gentle but assured, sweet but sexy, he kissed her breathless, in fact. She could taste his toothpaste on her tongue, and the thought occurred to Peyton that if only she didn't need oxygen to live, she could be quite happy doing this forever. As it was, they broke apart, enveloped by pillows and each other, smiling like idiots.

"Ok," Peyton began eventually, as Lucas manoeuvred himself almost flush against her, lying on his side, his head supported by his hand. "Look at that," she instructed him, lifting the hem of the oversized Ramones tshirt she slept in and pointing to her stomach. "That's definitely bigger, right?"

As he had done every night for several weeks now, Lucas turned to regard the creamy expanse of his wife's stomach. "It _definitely_ is," he replied after careful analysis, aware that this was the only time such a response was ever likely to be acceptable.

Absolutely no-one had guessed of her pregnancy before the big reveal – she hadn't had to change her lifestyle much at all and Peyton still wore all her clothes comfortably. Already though, her body was beginning to change – subtle signs visible only to herself, and Lucas, intimately acquainted as he was to her every freckle and curve. A new weight to her breasts and a small but very real roundedness to her stomach which was, for reasons unbeknownst to them, always more pronounced at night.

Lucas placed his hand on the small bump. "According to the book, right now the baby is like two and a half inches," he informed her.

"Really?" Peyton replied with a smile. She had embraced _What To Expect When You're Expecting _as though it were presented by God himself as a second bible, but she still found it adorable that Luke had been doing his homework too. "So, what's that, like, the size of an apple?"

"Yep. Or what else? A cell phone," he suggested.

"Or… I don't know," Peyton smiled. "I can't think of anything else."

Silence, as he traced lazy circles across her skin.

"It's pretty incredible, huh?" Lucas said, after a beat. "I mean, I know women probably get pregnant every second of every day, but right now I feel like no one in the history of the world has ever had a baby before – ever."

"Well," she answered, her voice soft and contemplative, "no one have ever had _this_ baby before."

She placed her hand on top of his on her midriff. "No one has ever had _your_ baby before."

Peyton wondered if he knew how special that simple fact made her feel. She guessed maybe he did, and maybe he felt some of it too, because soon enough, his lips were on her stomach, his fingers splayed across her thigh for balance.

Lucas kissed every part of her he could reach, light, open-mouthed kisses followed by a swathe of his tongue. His free hand unconsciously caressed her skin, addicted to such warmth and unblemished softness – always perfection in his eyes, but now hiding a new, secret preciousness. Hungrily, he slid her tshirt further up, revealing the tender fullness of her breasts and began the sweet task of working his way up with butterfly touches.

Peyton moaned quietly, wanting more. "That feels so good, baby," she half whispered, reaching down to pull her shirt all the way off.

Gentleman that he was, Lucas Scott was always only too happy to help his wife out of any and all clothing, and tugged the material over her head. "God, I love you so much Peyton," he said fiercely, kissing her on the mouth. "You're the only person I could ever imagine doing this with."

Peyton tilted her face up to his again, their chins touching. She wasn't sure if he meant making love or making a baby. She really didn't care.

"Me too," she whispered intensely, pulling his lips roughly to her own, reaching behind her to turn out the light.

* * *

**So, did i mention my viewing of the season premiere is likely to be delayed as i have no elecricity?! Maybe you feel bad enough for me to leave me a review... :P**


	4. April

There was such a flood of pregnancy fics there for a while, I didn't think I had anything interesting to add. On account of recent OTH-world events though, maybe we could all use a little fluff. Thanks to all who continued to ask about this story, it was really flattering and encouraging. Hope you enjoy :).

* * *

Lucas had always defended the institution of marriage, and there were many things about being married to Peyton in particular that it seemed he quite simply could no longer do without. It was about her hand resting on his thigh as he drove, her sly smile as she reached forward to turn up the radio. Or opening a take-out menu to find every available blank space covered by deft little sketches that were works of art in themselves. Cups of coffee delivered quietly to his study at 11pm, as he clacked away on the keyboard, and being woken up with kisses.

These were the things that made Lucas Scott's life good, and he didn't really like to be without them. He didn't really like to be without _her._

And so, it was with an overwhelming sense of relief and contentment that he opened his bedroom door that night, placing his suitcase quietly on the floor. New experiences and the buzz of a big city and availing of life's opportunities were all very well, but in truth, this was the only place he wanted to be: home, and with precious normality restored.

A glimmer of light filtered in from the hallway as he undressed, partially illuminating his wife's sleeping form. She had the bed to herself but had kept to her own side, and Lucas smiled as he watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest.

He could remember the first time he had ever shared a bed with this woman as if it were yesterday. In a stuffy, funny-smelling motel room a little off the highway, he had been just barely seventeen, and in awe. It was as though all her defences, those last vestiges of the armor she wore in the light of day, simply faded and melted away in sleep, leaving everything about her soft and sweet and vulnerable.

The realisation that he would do almost literally anything to protect her and make her happy had washed over him like a tidal wave, overwhelming and irreversible, but not unwelcome. And it was around that point that Lucas had started to feel ever so slightly scared out of his mind. These were not good thoughts to be having about someone who wasn't your girlfriend. Everything was such a mess. Lucas had known back then that he had no claim whatsoever on the girl lying beside him. They had missed their chance.

It didn't take much to recall, with vivid realism, the confusion and the fear and the guilt.

Now though, at twenty seven, Lucas looked down on his wife in slumber and he couldn't feel anything but happy. She was all his.

In times past, he might have woken her up just to say hi, but he knew she'd been exhausted lately. So, instead, he tiptoed over to shut the door as quietly as possible before crawling into bed, exhaling deeply at the pure joy of a comfortable mattress.

A comfortable and, as it turned out, creaky mattress.

Peyton shifted beside him in her sleep, and he held his breath.

"Luke?" came her muffled call, her voice thick with tiredness and her eyes still tightly closed.

"Yeah, it's me," he whispered, unable to help brushing a kiss across her temple. "Shhh, just sleep, ok, sweetheart?"

"Luke," she sighed, her lips curling upwards unconsciously in response to his touch.

"Peyton," he whispered in return, kissing her again for reasons that he knew were entirely selfish. He knew his pregnant wife needed her sleep more than a reunion with him that could just as easily wait until morning.

But she just looked so beautiful, and he hadn't laid eyes on her for seven days.

At the second press of his lips to her temple, Peyton's eyes began to open and she turned around to look for the cause of her disturbance. Her face centimetres from his, her smile widened and her eyes lit up as she realised that the man in front of her was, in fact, not a dream.

"Lucas!" she exclaimed, her voice still adorably sleepy-sounding. "You're home!"

He nodded, kissing her cheekbone. "I'm home."

She sighed in a satisfied way that indicated all was now right with the world.

"C'mere," she murmured, pulling his mouth down onto her own lazily. She took his bottom lip between both of hers and then let her tongue glide languidly along his lips, parting them. Leaning into his body a little more, she deepened the kiss, slowly sliding her tongue into his mouth, tasting him, before pulling away to look at his face. He met her gaze and she saw the smile spread across his face. She couldn't resist pecking his lips once more. "Missed you," she mumbled.

"God, Peyt," he breathed out, "you have _no idea_ how much I missed you. And _you_," he added, caressing her stomach before ducking down to kiss it.

She giggled at the feeling. "You big softie," she teased, her voice sounding clearer and more awake now.

Lucas just smiled and kissed the small swell of her stomach a few more times for good measure before moving back up the bed. His head didn't make it to the pillow, as Peyton pulled him down upon her chest, both her arms wrapped around him loosely.

One of her hands caressed his stubble lazily. "You didn't shave," she mumbled almost incoherently, sweeping her fingers across his cheek and tracing around his lips.

He kissed her fingers playfully. "I was never up in time."

"See?" she said. "You need me as an alarm clock."

Lucas just nodded, with a smile. It was one of the many things he needed her for.

"So, how'd it go anyways?" she asked a moment later.

"Peyt," he replied, his breath tickling her chest, "you're tired, you need to sleep. We can do this in the morning."

"No, no," she protested. "I'm awake now. I want to hear all about it, what did you think of Boston?"

He smiled ruefully at how quickly she disregarded his advice. That was Peyton all over. She'd work herself into the ground if he wasn't there to stop her, of that he was sure, but if he spent more than a few hours at his laptop, she was there, her fingers massaging his shoulder blades as she worried aloud about the strain on his back and eyes.

"It was good," he answered. "You know I'm not really a city guy, but it was nice, for a while at least. Good food, awesome scenery – we should go there sometime."

She laughed. "Might be a while before we're taking any vacations, Luke. Pretty soon I'm not going to be able to fly."

"Well then we'll have to wait until after the baby's born, then the three of us can go."

He said it as if it was the most natural thing in the world – that they would soon be three, and Peyton's heart swelled.

"Ok. It's a plan," she replied softly. "So how about the kids, did they seem into it?"

He had been a guest speaker at Boston University all week, leading undergraduate seminars on his own work.

"Yeah, that part of it was awesome, actually," Lucas enthused. "They were probably some of the most responsive classes I've ever had." He paused, smiling wryly. "They asked about you."

"Yeah?" she asked, as he rolled them over, spooning into her from behind.

"Yeah."

It was true. He done more book signings and college lectures than he could count now, and she was the one subject that always came up. Often people wanted to know how to go about getting published, sometimes they had a question about his style or his characters, and occasionally about his own literary preferences. But Peyton – always, always they asked about Peyton.

Did she really exist? What was she doing now? Were they still together?

Lucas knew some authors didn't like to talk about their personal lives, which was their prerogative, but Lucas was always more than happy to talk about his. He would talk about his wife with anyone who asked.

"So what'd you tell 'em?" Peyton asked, her tone teasing.

"Umm…" Lucas pretended to think. "I told them," he said slowly, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder, "that you were the hotshot owner of a record label."

She just scoffed good naturedly.

"And the love of my life," he continued, with a kiss. "And my best friend," another kiss, "and the mother of my child." He kissed her shoulder a final time. "They just about went nuts," he finished laughingly, breaking the sentimentality.

"Well I'm glad I'm a crowd-pleaser," she answered amusedly.

"Definitely."

Peyton smiled, moving around a bit and trying to get comfortable. If it was this hot in April, she dreading to think what it would be like being heavily pregnant all through the summer months. Suddenly, as she shifted about, she felt him twitch against her.

She turned around to face him, unable to help the corners of her lips tugging upwards. "Wow, Luke," she said slyly. "You really are happy to see me, huh?

"Seven days, Peyton," was his only response.

"Seven nights," she added pointedly, reaching down between them to grasp him, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

Lucas couldn't stop the escape of a moan at the contact. "Peyton," he hissed.

"What?" she husked in return, making it clear that she didn't expect an answer when she pulled his face down to meet her own, kissing him deeply as she continued her ministrations.

Lucas moaned again. His wife was a goddess, soft and skilled and passionate, and it was so easy to just drown in her.

With every last ounce of restraint in his body, he pulled away. "Peyt," he said breathlessly. "We don't have to do anything."

Peyton smiled inwardly at the obviously gargantuan effort it had taken for him to say those words. "We don't?" she asked innocently, looking down pointedly at his now fully-formed erection.

"I'm just saying I don't expect anything. Cause I know that despite what you told me on the phone, you've probably been working twelve hour days this week. You're pregnant and you're exhausted. I just want to take care of you."

There were times, having been with Lucas Scott, in one form or another, since the age of seventeen, that she was still utterly astounded by how amazing he was. This was one of those times.

She leaned forward to rub her nose against his, pecking his lips softly in silent thanks for his concern.

"I _am_ tired," she admitted. "But I'm also not immune to the fact that my very sweet, very _sexy_ husband is back in my bed."

--

They lay tangled together, coming down from their high, in the best kind of silence.

Eventually, Peyton raised a hand to her neck, to the spot his lips had been lavishing attention on just moments previously.

"I'm going to have a mark here tomorrow," she murmered.

"So?" Lucas asked languorously, still in a blessed-out state, where nothing seemed to matter but lying here with her.

"_So_," Peyton answered sassily, without any real annoyance in her tone, "when you're twenty seven, and you're pregnant, and you're _somebody's boss, _coming into work with a hickey isn't such a great look."

"I think it's an _awesome_ look."

She burst out laughing. "Well thanks, Luke, really, that's such a comfort. I'll remember that tomorrow when the entire office knows that I was making out like a teenager last night."

"Mmm," he hummed lasciviously. "Making out like teenagers, that sounds good, let's do that some more," he finished with a charming smile, pulling her towards him.

He nibbled and licked at her lips lazily, and she let him do it, leaning into the warmth and comfort of his touch. He was surprised, when he trailed his lips down her chin and over her jaw line, that she only tilted her head with a mewl, allowing him better access, encouraging him on with her hands.

He stopped, and the absence of his lips made her open her eyes. She saw his amused expression and raised eyebrows, and heard his silent question?

"Who gives a shit?" she asked finally with a smile, totally charmed by him. "I've already got one anyway and I can wear a scarf."

And so Lucas returned smilingly to the task at hand, approaching it with the skill and dedication he applied to everything in his life. Peyton threw her head back, allowing them both the pleasure of the adoration of her body.

Moments later, he was dropping tender kisses on her breasts when she jerked upwards suddenly.

"Oh!" she cried in surprise, her hand flying to her stomach.

"What?" Lucas asked immediately, his eyes clouding over with concern. "Are you okay? Is something wrong with the baby?"

"No," she replied tremulously, "I don't think so. C'mere."

She grabbed his hand, putting it on her stomach.

"Do you feel that?" she asked after a moment, eyes shining up at him, totally joyous.

Lucas concentrated for a moment. It was barely anything, just a little tap. He wouldn't even have known how to describe it.

But he felt it.

"That's our baby," he said, looking down at Peyton in awe.

"Yep," she replied, clearly emotional. "First kick."

"Really?" Lucas asked. "It didn't happen already during the week and you're just telling me this now to make me feel better?"

"I swear to you this is the first time," she said, and he didn't have any trouble believing her.

They were silent for a moment, taking in the enormity of the event.

"Pretty cool, huh?" Peyton eventually said softly.

"Just a little," he added with a smile.

"You know, I do think I read something in one of the books about activity in the womb kicking up after sex on account of all the… excitement."

Lucas took a second to absorb this information.

"Are you kidding me Peyton?!" he exclaimed, as much surprised by her casual delivery as by this new revelation. "Are you telling me our child can feel us having sex?!"

"Well, I don't know about the logistics of the whole thing…" she mumbled, apparently unconcerned.

"But what if I hurt it?!" he exploded again, realising even as he spoke that he was being paranoid and ridiculous, and that this was probably biologically impossible.

"Hey," Peyton shrugged her shoulders with a mischievous smile. "What's good for mama's good for baby, that's what I say!"

Lucas couldn't help but crack a smile, her attitude relaxing him a little. "I guess this is true," he acknowledged, pulling him in towards her. "But we obviously need to think of a better story to tell the baby when he or she grows up."

"What do you mean?" Peyton asked curiously, snuggling in beside him.

"When we tell him or her about the first time we felt it kick, we can hardly say 'yeah it was right after we had sex, daddy was in the process of getting mommy off again!'"

She laughed, slapping him ineffectually for his blunt wording. "Ok, I see your point!" she conceded. "I don't think we need a whole new story, though. I'm not sure I want to start lying to my child already! Maybe just make things a bit more PG."

"Ok," Lucas agreed, curling an arm across her stomach. "We can talk about it in the morning."

* * *

If you said "aw!" at any point during this chapter, then I'm happy. Also, you should tell me about it in a review!


	5. May

For Coconut16: because we had a deal, even though she fulfilled her end of the bargain much faster than me, and I don't think it was ever a fair exchange to begin with.

Also, for Smc-17: because she writes so often and so well, i usually feel i don't have to.

* * *

**MAY**

Lucas was lying on their bed, on top of the comforter, when his wife padded in from the ensuite. His eyes remained fixed on his book, but he held his hand out to her as she walked past, their fingertips touching for a brief moment.

"Hey" he mumbled, moving his legs a little to make room for her as she perched on the bed beside him. There was no need for her to be so close, really, she had a whole side of her own currently unoccupied. But when Lucas glanced up to see her slathering moisturiser on her legs as she did every night, he certainly wasn't complaining.

Setting his book aside, he leant forward to kiss her temple, the movement stopping her in her tracks.

"Do you have any idea how sexy you are?" he whispered lowly into her ear.

Peyton raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I felt _really_ sexy tonight," she said laughingly. "What did it for you, baby, the dry heaving or when I actually threw up?"

"_You_ do it for me," he replied, his voice unintentionally husky. "Just you. Whatever which way."

She simply smiled in pleased surprise, a blush rising to her cheeks. He kissed her face again, this time his lips landing just above her eyebrow. "Your tea's on the nightstand," he said against her skin.

She smiled again at the contact. "Thank you.

"Are you sure you're definitely feeling completely better?" he asked, leaning back as she continued with the task at hand, liberally applying lotion to her arms.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I promise. I think was just the…" she paused, her face contorting as if in horrid recollection, "_smell_."

She shook her head, in an effort to banish the memory. "So you know they say morning sickness ends after the first trimester?" she continued conversationally, screwing the cap back on her moisturiser. "Like hell it does."

"Well, I guess that wasn't technically _morning_ sickness, per se," he commented.

"Wow, yeah, I feel so much better about throwing up in the P.M," Peyton retorted with a roll of her eyes, and just a little bit more bite than intended.

One look at him and she softened. She reached for his hand. "I'm sorry we missed the rest of the movie," she said, remorse evident in her tone.

"It's no big deal," he replied easily, brushing away her concerns with a smile. "I could see where it was going anyway."

That being said though, Peyton knew that when you left work early, paid for tickets, bought popcorn and settled down in the theatre to watch a movie, you didn't necessarily want to have to leave half way through because your date was puking.

She gave his hand a light squeeze of thanks.

"Alright," he began after a moment, patting the bed. "You coming in?"

Peyton grinned, not having to be asked twice. She manoeuvred herself with ease to sit between his legs, while he propped himself up with extra pillows.

"You good?" he soon asked, after some fidgeting about and trying to get comfortable.

"Yep."

At the first touch of his fingers to her flesh, Peyton let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, allowing her entire body to relax. He began by kneading at her neck and shoulders, before working his way down along her spine and back up again. His hands were firm but tender at each knot of tension, rubbing slowly, causing the most delicious kind of pain. Peyton moaned quietly in response.

"God, that feels so good, baby," she murmured. "You're awesome at this."

He smiled and kissed the back of her head quickly. He had certainly had plenty of practice as a masseur in recent weeks, as the baby's weight put increasing strain on Peyton's back. After ten glorious minutes, his hands stilled on her shoulders.

"Better?" he asked.

His wife turned her head to look up at him, tired but smiling, reaching her arm around somewhat awkwardly to pull his lips down on hers. She kissed him slowly, sensuously, with everything in her. If he was surprised, he didn't show it, and responded with fervour.

"Much better," she replied when they finally broke apart, in answer to his earlier question, now almost forgotten, She kissed him again.

"You're so sweet to me."

"Well, I kinda like you," Lucas admitted, shifting himself down a little on the pillows and pulling her down on top of him so that her back was nestled flush against his chest.

"Plus," he added, "you're having my baby, you know?" He rested one of his hands on the now very visible roundness of her stomach. "So that means I sort of have to be nice to you."

"Don't you forget it!" she returned flippantly, knowing that he wouldn't.

"Are you sure we're not too heavy for you?" she asked, after a moment of silence.

He shook his head, "You're fine, I've told you a million times."

"Yeah, but it seems like I'm getting heavier by the day, " she laughed. "So I just want to give you the opportunity to take that back."

"Still stands."

She shifted over a bit, moving her head to lie on the right side of his chest. "There," she said in triumph when she was settled in the spot she wanted, "now you can breath out of one lung, at least."

"I don't really need the other one," he answered with a smile. "So did I tell you that Jamie asked me yesterday if we would name the baby after him?"

"What did you say?" Peyton laughed.

"I said that he was already named after me, and anyway, it would be confusing having two little Jamies running around."

"Well, if there's one thing we've got plenty of, Luke, it's people to name this kid after," she mused, not without a hint of sadness. It was the unwelcome by-product of having lost so many people they loved.

"Like your uncle Keith…" she continued, a question in her voice.

Lucas sighed almost inaudibly, but she could feel the movement against her back.

"I know we haven't really talked about names much, but have you thought about it?" Peyton prodded.

"Sure," he replied, his voice quiet and serious, the way it always was when he talked about something really important to him. "And if we had a son, I'd love to honour Keith … seems fitting, you know, since he was more of a father to me than Dan ever was. "But…"

Lucas hesitated, with another sigh. "I don't know. Can you imagine growing up in this town being 'Keith Scott?'" he asked. "I mean, everybody knows what happened, everybody's got an opinion. The name's loaded now, and I'm just not sure if I'd want that for our baby."

There was silence for a while before Lucas spoke again, and when he did, his tone was light, but tinged with sadness. "Actually," he added as an afterthought," come to think of it, I guess just growing up with the last name 'Scott' is probably going to be bad enough."

"And I married into it, what was I thinking, huh?" she joked, as he poked her side playfully in response.

"So, how about Keith as a middle name, then?" Peyton suggested, rolling off him to lay on the bed beside him. She needed to be able to see his face.

"And for the record," she added, "I don't think it would be a burden, I think it'd be an honour."

"Yeah," Lucas nodded his head slowly in satisfaction. "That's perfect." He leaned over to her, dropping a kiss on her shoulder. "You're perfect."

"I _am_ perfect," she agreed, smiling widely. "So, Keith for a middle name - we just have to think of a first name now."

"Yep. Hey," he said suddenly, with renewed vigour. "Who says we're even having a boy? Do you know something, Peyton?"

"What? No!"

"You sure?" he coaxed. "You didn't sneak a look a Dr. Hammond's notes last time…"

"I didn't, I swear!" she protested, and Lucas could tell she was in earnest.

"So, you think it's a girl, huh?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Fifty-fifty chance, right?" he asked with a smile, and for whatever reason, she found it adorable. Sometimes he just looked so identical to how she remembered him at sixteen.

"Well, there _is_!" he repeated, upon seeing her amused expression. "Anyway, I don't know, I just figure we should have a girl's name _and_ a boy's name ready. Cover all bases, you know?"

"Ok. Well, I actually was thinking about this," she said, turning around to face the wall, encouraging him to spoon against her. Pregnancy, she had discovered, made being in any one position for too long rather uncomfortable. Lucas took the hint, slinging an arm protectively across her stomach.

"I was thinking maybe it'd be nice to have 'Anna' or 'Ellie' in there somewhere – as a first name or a middle name, I don't know."

"Yeah," Lucas answered, nuzzling her shoulder where the strap of her tank had fallen down. "I think that's a great idea"

"But I can't choose between them!" she exclaimed in frustration.

"Well," he reasoned. "What about Anna Ellie, then? Or Ellie Anna?"

Peyton scrunched her nose, shaking her head. "They don't sound good _together_," she complained. "We gotta pick one."

"I kind of like Anna."

She nodded. "I do to. But then…there _is_ kind of an issue with Anna, isn't there?"

"There is?" he asked in confusion.

Peyton's lips curled upwards slightly in an amused smile. "Think about it, Lucas…"

Silence.

"Think _harder_, baby," she prompted again, before giving up entirely. "Anna Tagarro…" she revealed. "Old _girlfriend_ of yours… ring any bells?"

Lucas burst into laughter. "What about her?"

"Well, do you want to say to your daughter, 'yeah, you were named after your grandmother – and also a girl I had a fling with in highschool'?"

He grinned, her teasing tone telling him she was being light-hearted underneath it all. "Well, I wouldn't _have_ to say that to her," he countered, "because she'd be named after your mom, sweetheart. Nobody else. Definitely not a girl I haven't seen in about ten years!"

"Although," he began slyly as she lifted his hand to her mouth, kissing his knuckles lazily. "If we're going to go down that route… I know I would personally _love _to hear you explain to our child that, yeah, she was named after your mom, but also kind of after your high school lesbian lover…" he trailed off provocatively, waiting for a reaction.

She dutifully provided it. "Lucas!" she exclaimed, taking a swipe at his thigh, it being the only part of him she could reach. "Anna and I were not lesbian lovers!"

"_Oh_," he replied emphatically. "In my head you were, sweetheart."

"Well, just so you know, we only kissed the one time, and you're a pig," she said, in mock huffiness.

"You're right," he admitted, not sounding in the least bit remorseful, letting his hand travel softly from her stomach to her breast and back again. "I am, I'm sorry."

"I'll forgive you," she murmured, a little distracted by his feather-light touch. She presumed that was the idea, and she wasn't above surrendering.

"Good." He replied contentedly. "But how about we just agree to put _that_ Anna out of our heads in the naming process – nice as she was and everything."

"Ok," Peyton agreed with a smile.

"Though that still doesn't really leave us any further forward on the whole 'Anna' versus 'Ellie' debate, does it?"

Peyton exhaled loudly. "Not really. I think whatever one we choose I'd only want for the middle name. And anyway," she said, after a pause, "I guess it doesn't really matter which one we go for, right? I mean, whatever one we don't use, we can just save for the next one."

"Next one?" Lucas asked, and Peyton could hear the delighted amusement in his tone. "There's going to be a next one, huh?"

"Well, yeah," she responded, as if the fact should have been obvious. "I mean, all these years we've been focussing on our careers and each other and just having fun – and that's been awesome," she hastened to add, "but I'm in baby-making mode, now, honey!"

Lucas laughed loudly, and it was infectious. She turned around to face him – she could never seem to go too long without seeing those eyes – and pecked his lips with a smile. "You up for it?"

"Hey, I'm up for a basketball team if you want, you know that."

"Hmm…" Peyton muttered, feigning consideration. "Maybe not quite that many. But maybe…four?"

She looked up at him with tired but beautiful green eyes, obviously seeking reassurance, and he wondered why. Hadn't she realised by now that he couldn't deny her anything? Least of all this.

"Four sounds perfect," he said, taking her face into his hands gently, and kissing her mouth. He kept it innocent, just sipping at one lip then the other, but she never wanted it to end.

"Well," she muttered blissfully as he pulled away for breath. "I say that now."

She smiled, rubbing her nose against Lucas's. "Let's see how much this one hurts first."

* * *

**I'm not so happy with this chaper, guys, I feel like i got bogged down in a lot of crap dialogue and not much else. Sorry if you felt it wasn't up to par, i'm hoping the next one will be better! Reviews are love and, loosely speaking, equal updates :D.**


	6. June

Being six months pregnant in the sweltering heat of North Carolina was no joke.

Really.

And it wasn't just the heat. It was the humidity. It was the insects buzzing around every second of the day. It was the sun in her eyes as she tried to relax with a novel. And it was the fact that she could never, ever seem to get comfortable in bed.

Indeed, June had been a trying month – and Peyton had no doubt that her husband would attest to that. She had tried to curtail what she was self-aware enough to recognise as irritability and irrationality, but undeniably, conditions were not ideal. Lucas – his patience, his humour, his innate ability to bring calm – had been the only thing keeping her sane. Well - him and ice cream.

In the last number of weeks, Peyton had become very partial to any and all varieties of Haagan Dazs. It served the dual function of cooling her down and reducing her heartburn – the only trouble was, it had no retroactive effect, and so did nothing really to solve her long term problems. Nevertheless, it was truly heavenly whilst you were actually eating it, and so Peyton had been eating it near constantly.

Lucas, in turn, had been buying it near constantly.

Thinking back to the first time she'd sent him out in the middle of the night, Peyton never quite managed to hide a smirk. Ironically enough, she'd really only done it to appease him. She had a wonderful husband, and she knew that he _liked_ to take care of her – he always had, and even more so now that she was pregnant. Lucas _wanted_ to rub her back and bring her glasses of iced water and put the fan on for her. And as the months wore on, Peyton got the impression that he was really quite looking forward to his first midnight dash to the store to satisfy her cravings – it was just one of those things, wasn't it? You saw it in all the movies and TV shows; the expectant father sharing a knowing glance with the store clerk – _"my wife's pregnant."_

That first night, Lucas _had_ felt a certain pride as he uttered those very words, and left the store armed with a tub of ice cream that – little did he know – Peyton could honestly take or leave.

Now, though, the novelty had well and truly worn off, and he wisely bought in bulk.

One particular Friday night towards the end of the month, Lucas was staring at the fluorescent lights of his alarm clock, wondering if sleep would ever come, when he felt a movement on the other side of the bed.

"Peyt?"

"Oh," she glanced around at him. "You're awake. I'm just going down to get some ice cream, 'k?"

"Hey, no," he replied, reaching out to touch her arm gently. "I'll get it. Pralines and cream?"

She grinned in the darkness, nodding her response as he kissed her forehead quickly.

"I'll be right back."

--

When he returned, bowl of ice cream in hand, Peyton had switched on their bedside lamps and was sprawled out on top of the comforter, with a small fan directed at her, blowing full blast.

He smiled at the sight of her in her cotton baby-doll nightdress, wondering where on earth she was putting all this food. She had a sizeable bump now, and her breasts and hips were perhaps a little curvier, but her height and long, slender limbs meant but she certainly hadn't ballooned up the way she'd feared she was going to.

Her eyes sparkled at the sight of his precious cargo. "Ok, bring me the ice cream," she instructed, "I am so unbelievably hot right now."

Lucas cocked an eyebrow slyly, settling on the bed beside her, passing her the bowl with one hand and turning her chin towards him with the other.

"You definitely are," he whispered huskily against her lips, before leaning in to kiss her thoroughly. She responded in kind, thinking once again that this was one of her favourite things about Lucas – even though she was pregnant, he still kissed her like he meant it. He still looked at her the way he did when she was sixteen and in a cheerleading skirt – as if she was the sexiest thing he'd ever seen.

When she pulled away, Peyton couldn't help a faint blush rising to her cheeks at the words that had accompanied his action. "Shut up," she mumbled, tugging the material of his sleep tshirt towards her, brushing her lips against his once more for good measure.

He just smirked, watching as she reached for her ice cream, taking a large spoonful and withdrawing the spoon from her mouth slowly, savoring the coolness of the dessert as it slid easily down her throat.

"You're awesome," she commented, giving him a coy sideways glance, before turning her full attention towards the bowl in front of her for a few minutes.

"So," she enquired eventually, as though the though had only just occurred to her. "What are you doing awake so late, anyway?"

"Nothing," Lucas answered, pausing almost imperceptibly for a second, before repeating, "Nothing. I just… couldn't sleep."

"Ok," Peyton replied nonchalantly, licking her spoon. "But whenever you want to talk about whatever's been going on in that head of yours for the past three days, I'm listening."

He tried to brush it off. "What makes you think there's something wrong? He asked lightly.

She set aside her half-full bowl of ice-cream, turning to look at him with a shrug. "I just know."

Lucas couldn't help but smile ruefully, shaking his head in awe. She just knew. She always just knew. One of the best things about his wife was that he was sure he could talk to her about anything – but on this occasion, he simply didn't want to cause her any extra worry or stress.

"It's really nothing," he assured her.

"No it's not," she replied gently, her voice without any anger or urgency. "If it was nothing, you would have told me already. If there was a problem with one of the guys on the team, I would have had a line-by-line account of your conversation with him three days ago. If you were stuck with the new novel, you'd be all grouchy and a nightmare to live with," she teased, wondering if he realised quite how well she knew him, "but you'd still be ranting to me about how much you suck. You know I'm right!"

"Ok, you're right," he agreed in amusement, his laughter fading a moment later.

"I don't know," he began, "I guess I've just been thinking about the baby a lot lately…."

Peyton grinned widely. She could see where this was going. "And you think about being entirely responsible for another person, and about sleepless nights, and how the hell we're going to juggle three jobs between us with being full time parents. And then," she continued, barely stopping for breath, "then you think about when the baby gets to be a teenager, and all the hormones and drama. I mean, I remember what _I_ was like as a teenager, Luke, I remember all the things _we_ got up to," she teased, poking him with a sly smile. "And I think those memories are going to be what keeps me up at night when our kid hits sixteen."

She grabbed his hand in hers, unconsciously playing with his fingers.

"_But_," she added pointedly, getting back to her original thought, "when I have these kinds of little freak-outs, I usually just remind myself that it's ok if, as a mom, I have to kind of figure it out as I go along. Because you're going to be there too," she said, speaking quietly but clearly. "And you're going to be _the_ most amazing father, Lucas."

He pulled her into him then, wrapping his arms around her tightly, taking a moment to just hold her, nuzzling at her hair. "I love you so much," he murmured. He'd uttered the phrase a million times to her over the course of their relationship, and he knew she'd bet her life on its truth, but repeating it never felt superfluous.

"Although," he said in amusement, releasing her from his grip a little, "that actually _wasn't_ the thing that's been on my mind."

"Huh," Peyton mused, her lips curving up into half a smile. "Well," she said dryly, leaning forward to touch her nose to his, "now you know all _my_ secret fears." She kissed him quickly. "What's up?"

"Ok…" Lucas replied, almost as if he were talking to himself, accepting that they were going to go there. "You know how we always say we don't mind if we have a boy or a girl, as long as he or she is healthy…?"

She nodded.

"Well, lately I've sort of been thinking about…my HCM," he said, the final words tumbling out of his mouth in panic. "I know that we haven't talked about it," he continued. "And honestly, I haven't wanted to talk about it. But now I feel like we have to. What if I've given it to the baby, Peyt?"

"Alright," Peyton nodded again, exhaling slowly, as if trying to process this new concern that she truly hadn't anticipated.

"Luke," she began, shifting on the bed to sit Indian style, and tugging him up to sit opposite her. "Ok," she pulled his hand over to her, resting it on her round stomach. "If there was some kind of test that we could do right now – tomorrow – and it told us that this baby has HCM," she looked him straight in the eye, "would you still want it?"

"What?" he exclaimed, horrified at her suggestion. "Of course!"

Peyton honestly hadn't expected any other answer. "So would I. And that's really all there is to it, baby," she said softly, maintaining his gaze. "I mean – I hope that our child doesn't have HCM. Just like I hope that if it's a girl, she doesn't inherit the breast cancer gene from Ellie. And lord knows what kind of a medical history Mick had," she said sceptically, referring to the man she hadn't felt the need to see in years.

"The point is," she continued, placing her hand over his on her stomach, "this is our child," she said emphatically. "It's you and me. And we're going to love him or her regardless. Right?"

"Right," Lucas replied intensely, his voice scarcely above a whisper. "It's just… I want the baby to have the best possible start in life. And I don't what it to be denied that because of me."

"Oh, Luke," she sighed, her heart breaking at the look in his eyes. "If the baby _does_ have HCM, they'll detect it as soon as it develops. They'll treat it. And he can have a normal life. I mean, look at you," she said brightly. "I know you can't play in the NBA, but your life's pretty good, right?"

"It's perfect," he said honestly, with a smile. And suddenly, it all became so clear. Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy hadn't stopped him getting any of the things he held most dear. It didn't cause him pain, it didn't leave him bed-ridden. It was a manageable condition, and one which his child might not ever even have to worry about. He sighed slowly, shaking his head, before realising that the woman opposite him was still watching him intently.

"You know what?" he began, all blue eyes and dimples and unassuming charm. "You are a very, _very_ smart woman, Peyton Sawyer."

She grinned. "Peyton _Scott_," she reminded him, although she loved that he still used her maiden name as a term of endearment. "And thank you. Now can I finish my ice cream, please?"

"Sure," he laughed.

"Good!" she said lightly, flopping down on the pillows with her bowl cradled in her hands, as he moved to lie beside her.

"It's 1am," she stated, the spoon in her mouth mangling her words a little.

"We should put out the light soon, you're going to be so tired in the morning," he advised, knowing how much she needed her sleep these days.

"Well, if it hadn't been for you and your deep conversations," she muttered in a faux-huffy tone, running her foot up his shin simultaneously, letting him know she wasn't really making fun. "You want some ice cream?" she asked, holding out an almost melted spoonful to him.

He parted his lips to take it, not wholly unsurprised when instead she smeared the sticky liquid all over his mouth.

"Oops," she said coyly, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

"Wow, Peyton," he said sardonically, wiping some of the ice cream from his face and licking his finger, "you're going to be somebody's mom? Really?"

"Mmm-hmm," she mumbled affirmatively, wriggling herself over a little into his space. "But the baby'll get a wet-one to clean up with."

"And what do I get?" he asked, sounding very, very interested indeed, although her proximity was giving him a pretty good idea.

Peyton elected not to answer, instead moving in to kiss him slowly, licking the sweetness from his lips. She pulled away when it was all gone, their chins still touching as she leaned back to look into his eyes.

"Any possibility you want some more, Luke?" she questioned, her lips twitching in amusement.

"I might," he said, not even bothering to pretend to be anything other than powerless when it came to her.

"Well then, I might need some more ice cream," she replied, pressing a kiss to his jaw line. "The temperature in this room is ridiculous."

* * *

I really wanted to get this out there, guys. I've kind of been in a "meh" mood lately (lots of studying, hard choices, bad news all that) - so i felt like maybe my world could use some LP happiness. Reviews also make me happy, just by the way :P.


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